


Stars

by politicalmamaduck



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, First Love, Slow Build, Training
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-17
Updated: 2015-10-17
Packaged: 2018-04-26 19:29:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5017444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/politicalmamaduck/pseuds/politicalmamaduck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tauriel journeys to Rivendell when King Thranduil decides to pay Lord Elrond a visit, and amid training sessions and late-night conversations, she and Arwen fall deeply in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stars

**Author's Note:**

  * For [magnetgirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/magnetgirl/gifts).



> Set before the War of the Ring.

_“I loved a maid as red as autumn with sunset in her hair…”_

Her burnt chestnut tresses reminded Arwen of the color of the autumn foliage surrounding Rivendell as it turned from bright summer to crisp fall; of a fire, blazing in the library hearth. She had enjoyed the company of the sprightly Silvan elf from the start, admired her courage and her desire to learn; her unbridled desire to help and serve all and sundry.

She was unlike anyone Arwen had ever known; certainly a polar opposite to her austere Noldorin grandmother, imposing and regal from her seat in Lothlórien. But what Tauriel lacked in gravitas, she certainly made up for in boundless energy, exemplified by her intense physical training sessions each morn. Climbing trees, hiking mountains, vaulting boulders, and ceaseless target practice hardly seemed to contain or constrain Eryn Lasgalen’s Captain of the Guard.

It was rare that Thranduil ventured out of his guarded yet perilous Silvan paradise. Hosting the last true king of the Eldar remaining in Middle Earth was an honor for Elrond, even if many of the Noldor remaining in Rivendell still looked down upon the Sindar and the Wood-elves, even after many centuries. Lord Elrond, however, looked beyond such petty distinctions—after all, he himself was part Sindar, and as such was Thranduil’s distant cousin. Arwen followed suit with her beloved Ada on such matters. She was not one to shun friendship based upon a trivial distinction such as where and to whom one was born, especially when there were so precious few of the Eldar remaining in Middle Earth.

If she were being truly honest in her introspections, Arwen found Tauriel to be a much needed change from her usual routine, a whirlwind of passionate life in the quiet stillness of the Hidden Valley. She had so longed for intimate female companionship after her mother’s departure for the Undying Lands, and she could only make the perilous trek across the Misty Mountains to Lothlórien to see her grandmother so often. And while she often remained in Lothlórien for long stretches of time, she felt keen homesickness there while picking up echoes of her father’s loneliness and missing her brothers.

Forcing herself to remain in the present with a smile upon her face, she found her practiced cool formality as the acting Lady of Rivendell quickly slipping away with the eager conversation and lively banter with many of their guests, particularly the exuberant Captain of the Guard. Arwen’s brothers loved sharing tales of battle exploits and heroic adventures with the Dúnedain with the Silvan fighters, and were particularly interested to hear Tauriel’s account of the Battle of the Five Armies. As the firelight turned upon Tauriel’s hair and eyes, Arwen felt as if a warm embrace surrounded her. She was captivated by the sparkle and the hint of tears in Tauriel’s eyes, and the way the flickering light highlighted her hair and cheekbones took her breath away. Arwen left the great hall that night feeling a deep respect and affection for the beautiful warrior, and wanted to know more of the stories hiding behind her eyes while her guests remained in Rivendell.

The next morning, Arwen rose early, hoping to catch Tauriel while she was training so that they would have a few moments to converse free of others’ hearing. The sunlight was glinting off of Tauriel’s armor in the field where she was practicing, making her easy to spot, even at a distance. Calling out to her so as not to startle her while training, Arwen inquired as to how her beautiful guest was enjoying her stay so far. “My lady, it is an honor to be a guest in Rivendell. The scenery here is breathtaking, and there is plenty of land to explore and to see in safety.”

The strong swing of her sword creased the air, scattering some nearby falling leaves. Arwen was impressed by the cleanliness and power behind Tauriel’s sword strokes. She was fair with a blade herself, but would never consider herself a great warrior like her father and brothers. She preferred to exert a quieter, more defensive, protective power over Rivendell, much like her grandmother’s vigilance over Lothlórien.

“Please, Captain Tauriel, call me Arwen. It is an honor to host you and your people; crossing the Misty Mountains is not a journey to be undertaken lightly. We are all very much enjoying your company.”

“The pleasure is all mine, Arwen, and likewise please call me Tauriel. It is good for us to journey out of Lasgalen, I have always felt we keep to ourselves far too much. There is much to see outside the confines of the Woodland Realm.”

“I had thought you yourself were widely traveled, having fought in so many great battles.” “I have travelled farther than a few of my kindred, I will confess, but sadly never across the Misty Mountains before. It is never a certain passage, not a journey one can take alone. I have been very reckless in the past, but I have learned from my mistakes, however painful it was.”

With that, Tauriel clamped her mouth and took a particularly vicious swing at a dead tree at the edge of the field. Arwen noticed how Tauriel’s shoulders had tensed and her jaw tightened at this reminder of her past, and sought to alleviate that strain. “Your skill with a sword is impressive. I have been admiring your swift strokes and diligent training since you arrived.”

Tauriel paused in her paces. Turning towards Arwen, she nodded in recognition of the compliment and flipped her sword around to hand the hilt to Arwen.

“I have forced myself to become better at sword craft over the years. The bow is better suited to the woodlands in many ways. Have you been trained in weaponry, my—Arwen?” she said quickly.

“I have, though I am not nearly as skillful as yourself or my family. I have focused more on honing the craft that my grandmother has taught me than I have in combat, I am afraid.” Arwen was usually very self-assured, but something about the auburn haired Captain of the Guard made her want to blush and shy away from her powerful gifts.

“Show me your stance,” said Tauriel, handing Arwen her sword. “Good. Now adjust your shoulders just so. Never let your guard down and remember that your strength comes from within.”

They passed nearly an entire day with Tauriel training Arwen, refining her stances and posture, discussing Tauriel’s training techniques and Arwen’s defensive measures. Being in Tauriel’s effusive presence prevented Arwen from feeling tired or having flagging spirits, so much so that she lamented the fact that their presence was naturally required for dinner in the hall. Washing her face before the meal, Arwen noticed her normally very fair skin had gained a healthy looking color after exerting herself physically all day. As the sun began to set, a crisp autumn breeze swept into her chamber, bringing a few gold and red leaves with it. Arwen normally dreaded the onset of fall and the cold winters it foreboded, but the autumn colors and scents reminded her of Tauriel. Gathering up the leaves, she smiled and went to play the gracious host at dinner.

The next morning, she rose early again to continue where she and Tauriel had left off in training yesterday. This time, she paused in the armory to polish and shine Hadhafang before taking it with her, thinking that having her own blade would be beneficial rather than using one of Tauriel’s. She met her fair companion in a copse not far from the main cluster of buildings that defined Rivendell.

“Mae g’ovannen, Tauriel. Did you sleep well last night?

“I found it hard to tear myself away from gazing up at the stars last night. The stars are incredibly precious to the Woodland Elves, as I am sure you know,” Tauriel said, looking at Arwen through her eyelashes as she adjusted her training vambraces.

“Yes, we too seek to honor the Lady of the Stars; though with so few living in Rivendell as of late, we have nothing so great as the Feast of Starlight for which your people are renowned! But you can hear many songs and poems in praise of Elbereth Gilthoniel in our halls, and many references to the stars at twilight when Lúthien Tinúviel walked this earth.”

“Are you not also called Undómiel, and said to be the image of Lúthien Tinúviel herself?”

“I am called Undómiel; it is not a name I wear lightly. I have always thought it an honor to bear it, as I do to be described in connection with my ancestor, but that is not something which I think much on in my day to day life. None can ever truly be the likeness of the Lady Luthien, and she will not walk the paths of this earth again.”

“I find it hard to believe that anyone could be more beautiful than you, Arwen. I certainly have never met such a person, in all my travels. When I first met you, I could not believe what I was seeing,” said Tauriel, looking intently at Arwen, whose eyes were downcast in thought.

Looking up, slightly startled, Arwen began to blush and said, “You are too kind to me, Tauriel. Thank you for your gracious words.”

“You are most welcome, Arwen.”

With that, the two women joined hands and walked out into the sunlight to practice their sword strokes.

The days passed quickly, as the sun began to set earlier and the two women sought to spend every possible moment together. Arwen found her disquiet around Tauriel slipping away into an easy familiarity, her earlier reserve melting under the younger elf’s sunny smile. There never seemed to be enough time to discuss everything they wanted to talk about, to teach each other about the other’s people and language and culture. Arwen took to learning the Silvan dialect far more than Tauriel did to Quenya, which was never spoken in the Woodland Realm.

Tauriel excitedly told Arwen of her journeys through Rhovanion, the beautiful nights that she had spent sleeping under the stars while offering assistance to any travelers that came across her path and healing villagers’ ailments with athelas and other herbs. Arwen, in turn, told Tauriel of the wonders of Lothlórien and her grandmother’s abilities. She had never felt so comfortable with a friend before. Her brothers had been her constant companions growing up, but their paths had diverged greatly. Besides her family, Arwen rarely had intimate companionship and felt keen twinges at the thought that her newly gained companion would be departing her company soon.

Tauriel had long desired to make the journey across the Misty Mountains and see the remains of the lost kingdom of Arnor. When Thranduil decided to pay a centuries postponed visit to the Lord of Rivendell, Tauriel was ecstatic to be offered the opportunity to accompany and protect the King. She had no trouble bearing the privations of travel, even through the difficult mountain pass, for she had survived far worse before. As long as Tauriel had the hope of seeing the stars at night, she would make it through whatever obstacle was placed in front of her.

She was unsure of what to make of the austere daughter of the Lord of Rivendell at first. She felt inadequate in her courtly manners after having avoided so many of the ceremonial and formal functions at Thranduil’s court for so long. But she soon found the Lady Arwen to be generous and warm behind the courtly façade, and Tauriel found herself falling under the Evenstar’s enchanting grace.

She couldn’t fathom why the graceful heir to Lúthien Tinúviel was expressing such interest in a lowly Silvan elf, until learning through an overheard conversation early in their stay in the shadowed pathways of Rivendell.

“Lady Arwen showed some color to her cheeks at the meal, did you see it?” a tall, dark haired, male Elf that Tauriel did not recognize asked.

“She was out in the valley with King Thranduil’s Captain of the Guard all day. It is a good thing to see her have a female companion besides her grandmother a hard journey away; she just hasn’t been the same since her mother sailed. No one to guide her through courtship or anything; her father loves her dearly, but he is so busy with his duties and there are no other young noble elleths of an age with her,” a wizened Human woman was saying to the Elf.

“The cost of hosting Thranduil’s court is worth it to see the Lady Arwen smile again alone,” said the male Elf, and the pair began walking towards the kitchens such that Tauriel could not hear the remainder of their conversation.

In that moment, Tauriel’s love for Arwen grew from an admiration and respect to a deep and abiding empathy, and she decided to spend every moment she could with the beautiful and reserved woman, and her empathetic love yet again changed and became deeper and more romantic with each passing moment.

…

The bright light of midday had turned to dusk; the sun was low on the horizon, its red streaks of sunlight turning to purple twilight. The leaves were beginning to fall from the trees in earnest as an autumnal breeze scattered them about. The waning light cast shadows upon the red leaves, reminding Arwen once more of the way Tauriel’s hair caught and held light. She sat upon a stone bench, reflecting on how joyous the past weeks had been, and how empty she would feel to see her guests leaving on the morrow.

She heard something quietly, but not entirely silently rustling the leaves near her, and turned to see the object of her thoughts approaching. She smiled, and waited for the sprightly Silvan woman to join her on the bench.

Arwen took Tauriel’s hand and kissed it, trying to choose her words with great care. “You have become so precious to me, mellon nîn. I am going to miss you terribly when you leave.”

“These days here in Imladris have been even more wonderful than I could have imagined, Arwen. I will never forget you or your beautiful home, for you have truly touched my heart. I will write you as often as I can. And someday, our paths shall cross again; I know it.” Tauriel placed her left hand over Arwen’s, still holding her own, and leaned in, pressing a kiss to Arwen’s cheek. “I have often been alone in my travels. I have learned to rely only on myself, for I had love once and lost it. I have been afraid of loving and losing again, for I could hardly bear my pain and sought to escape it. But I am not afraid of losing you, for I know that you will always have a piece of my heart and that I will see you each night in the stars, my Evenstar.” Saying this, she looked deeply into Arwen’s eyes, as if seeking to sear them into her soul.

“The light of the Evenstar does not wax and wane. It is constant, even in the greatest darkness,” Arwen said, holding Tauriel’s gaze. “I wish I could give you peace in this world, meleth nîn. But all I can offer you is my deep and abiding love and the knowledge that I will cherish having spent these days with you until the end of my days.”

“Then I shall be content, knowing I go with your love,” Tauriel said in a whisper, her eyes glassy as she looked down at their clasped hands. Looking back at Arwen, she brought her left hand up to cup Arwen’s cheek.

Tauriel felt as though time had stopped while looking into the crystal blue eyes of Arwen Undómiel. She was not sure if a moment had passed, or an hour, before she closed the space between them and leaned in to feel Arwen’s lips on her own.

And then she stopped being concerned with how much time had passed, how she was departing the valley paradise for a perilous journey home the next day, how she was going to decide what to do next when she returned home. All she was concerned with at that moment was her fingers in Arwen’s hair, with their lips searching the others, with how right it felt.

Arwen pulled away far too soon for Tauriel’s liking, and at the questioning look on her face, put a gentle finger to Tauriel’s lips. Clasping her hand once more, Arwen led Tauriel out of the sheltered garden and into Rivendell itself, through the winding paths to the private quarters.

Shutting the door behind her, Arwen shyly smiled and said, “We can have some privacy here.”

And so, the Evenstar and the daughter of the forest passed the night delighting in the pleasures of each other's bodies. Hurried kisses became deeper and slower, letting them savor each moment.

Arwen buried her head in Tauriel’s hair, kissing her neck. “Meleth nîn,” she murmured. There was not much speaking done between the pair that night. The communicated on another level; with a look, a glance, a touch, a kiss. Never had Arwen experienced such pleasure; never had she given in to her deepest desires thus. For her, the emotional connection of love had always been paramount, and to have forged a connection with Tauriel in conjunction with her desire for the beautiful warrior was truly what she had wished for.

Tauriel felt as though she had known Arwen for years, rather than days, and to her it seemed that she could realize all of her partner’s intimate desires without having to say a word, that their two bodies truly became one. She was grateful to have a joyous, generous partner; especially one that she truly loved with all her heart, which she had not thought to look for in the secluded valley of Imladris.

After their lovemaking was over, they lay entwined in each other’s arms, looking up at the moon and stars. The autumn breeze blew sweetly and softly into Arwen’s chambers, and clasping Tauriel’s hand, she said, “Every year, when I see the autumn moon like this, I shall remember and celebrate the memory of this night.” “And when I look upon the evening stars, I shall think of you, my Arwen, and think of the night that I held a star in my arms.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Writing these two incredible lady elves was a joy and a challenge. To me, in the films at least, they both come off as being very reserved at first, so I tried to work this perception into the fic and show them breaking down each others' barriers. I hope that I carried it off! 
> 
> I decided to utilize the headcanon that Thranduil, like Celeborn, was a grandson of Elmo, and thus a distant cousin of Elrond's. I wish I could remember where I read this so that I could give credit where credit is due!
> 
> I also chose to utilize my own personal headcanons that Arwen would inherit some of Galadriel's powers through her mother, Celebrian, who also displayed such power, and that Arwen is demisexual. 
> 
> "I loved a maid as red as autumn with sunset in her hair" is a line from George R.R. Martin's "A Song of Ice and Fire". I find it perfectly suited to Tauriel. 
> 
> “The light of the Evenstar does not wax and wane. It is constant, even in the greatest darkness,” is a quotation from the Lord of the Rings films.
> 
> A huge shoutout to my dear friend and editor, Desiree, and my wonderful friend Amanda for her moral support.
> 
> Please don't hesitate to leave comments with constructive feedback!


End file.
